


Dismantle.Repair.

by yodepalma



Series: The Path of Flame [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Companionable Snark, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Depression, Ed-level cursing, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Hughes is Everyone's Dad, M/M, Mild Angst, Omake, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Parental Roy Mustang, Post-Series, Present Tense, Side Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5349008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Führer Bradley's death, Roy quietly falls apart. Ed puts him back together.</p><p>("It's not that I keep hanging on. / I'm never letting go."-Anberlin)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dismantle.Repair.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a little jumpy and emotionally all over the place, but hopefully it turned out as good as I envisioned it.
> 
> In a way, this story is dedicated to everyone who wanted to see Ed and Roy getting together, and Ed meeting Harry. I had a rough time finishing it (see: it took me _two months_ to write it), so the fact that people wanted those scenes got me through. :)
> 
> Fair warning: Roy spends a good two-thirds of this story depressed. Hopefully I've been respectful in my writing of it; if I've screwed up too bad, feel free to let me know!

**_Dismantle.Repair._ **

_You could be my unintended_  
_Choice to live my life extended_  
_You should be the one I'll always love_

_I'll be there as soon as I can_  
_But I'm busy mending broken_  
_Pieces of the life I had before_

_"Unintended" - Muse_

Roy is staring out of the hospital window, still trying to get used to his missing eye, when he hears the door open behind him. He heaves a little sigh, but doesn't turn to look at his guest. He doesn't really want anyone to see him like this, broken down and ruined by his injuries and all the mistakes he made.

"Rise and shine, Roy-boy!" a rasping voice says, breaking him out of his thoughts. Madame Christmas. Of course. Only family and Hawkeye are allowed to see him yet, with the tribunal still debating his guilt. Hawkeye brought with her information, letting him know the fates of the Elrics and the country, but he hopes to hell Madame hasn't brought—

"Daddy?" a young voice says, trembling with uncertainty. Harry. He resists the urge to sigh his exhaustion, and turns from the window to finally look at his aunt and his son for the first time since he woke up. He wishes he had the energy to smile, but the sight of his family only makes him feel worse. He'd almost lost them. Or, more to the point, he'd almost forced _them_ to lose _him_. There are many things he can't forgive himself for, and this is almost a contender for first place. How could he leave Harry without a father? He knows how much protection the boy needs, remembers a time when only he and Hawkeye had stood between Harry and probable death, and Harry loves him so much—

Madame cuts his thoughts off again, this time by unceremoniously plopping Harry down onto Roy's lap. He grunts softly at the weight, still weak, but Harry makes a scared noise and stares up at him with wide, frightened eyes. Roy's heart aches. Harry isn't supposed to be scared of him, anybody else can be, but his own damn son....

"Harry," Roy says hoarsely, slowly raising a hand to his son's face. By some miracle, the lack of depth perception doesn't make him accidentally hit his son, and Harry gives him a tremulous smile, scooting forward to hug him. Roy puts his other hand on Harry's back, marveling at how small he is, how fragile he feels under Roy's fingers—and Selim Bradley's terrified face swims into his mind, and Roy chokes on a sob as he pulls Harry into a tight embrace and buries his face in his son's hair.

"Daddy?" Harry asks in a frightened voice. "Daddy, what's wrong?"

Roy doesn't answer. Can't answer. He's thinking about the boy he couldn't save and silently promising himself, promising Maes, promising _his son_ , that whatever else happens, he _will_ save Harry. He shouldn't think it, doesn't want to believe it, but he knows he would burn down another country for Harry, if it would keep him safe.

He has failed so many people already. He can't fail another one.

(He isn't crying. He never cries. Madame Christmas quietly exits the room anyway, and he knows she'll be standing guard outside that door until he's done clinging to his son.)

@-`---

He's not allowed to leave the hospital for weeks. Apparently he's considered a flight risk, what with being tried for treason and all. He wants to explain to the other generals that he doesn't have the energy to go anywhere. Besides, he knew what he was in for when he made the decision to kill Pride in his own house. He'll take the punishment they hand him, whatever it happens to be.

He never says any of it, though. In fact, he rarely says anything at all. It's Hawkeye that speaks in his defense, as passionate as he's ever seen her, while he just sits quietly in the chair he's given. Hawkeye is disappointed in him, he can feel it rolling off her every time they leave the room, but she fights for him and his career anyway. He's more grateful for her and her loyalty than he has words for, but sometimes he wishes she would just give up. What use is trying to save a broken man, anyway?

When he's not at Headquarters silently listening to people debating his future, he finds himself wandering the hospital hallways like a ghost. The nurses give him a cane and allow him to wear actual pajamas, and they all give him kind smiles and titter flirtatiously behind their hands. Despite his silence, it seems his reputation is still going strong. It'll be a good thing if Hawkeye manages to win him his career back, but he can't bring himself to be interested. He rarely talks to the nurses, certainly doesn't smile or flirt with any of them, and they leave him mercifully alone.

Instead he spends long hours sitting by Maes's bedside, silently willing him to wake up. He needs his friend's advice, needs him to come up with another crazy idea to give him purpose again. But Maes stays stubbornly unconscious, typical really, and Roy is left to handle his shattered life on his own.

Gracia and Elicia visit Maes's room almost every day, of course. It's nice for a while, having company in his mourning. But Gracia never stops giving him sympathetic, almost pitying looks, and Elicia alternates dramatically between begging her dad to wake up and trying to get Roy to talk to her. And he loves Elicia, he really does, she's like a second child to him—but he can't stop comparing her situation to the one Harry could have had. Harry is several years older than her, a little less cheerful and enthusiastic, and he's already lost one set of parents. Would he have handled losing Roy as well as Elicia is handling her unresponsive father?

It's too much. He starts spending time in another silent room down the hall, where Ed lays as unconscious as Maes, and nobody knows why.

Another person he's failed. Sometimes he wishes he'd forced Ed to come with him instead of allowing him to run off to save Al on his own. Maybe if they'd worked together, neither of them would be where they are now. Roy wouldn't have nearly gotten himself killed by Archer, Ed would be—awake. And furious, if anything had happened to Al while he was cleaning up after Roy. But awake, and alive, and even if Al was still trapped in the armor at least he wouldn't be looking so much like a corpse. (Roy had stopped in Al's room once. Only once. Between his wasted appearance and the multiple tubes stuck in his arms, Roy hadn't managed to return.)

Instead he watches over Ed, guarding the boy (no, man—Roy had already acknowledged his maturity) in a way he never had when Ed was awake. But Ed had never _looked_ like he needed protection before, even when he'd been eleven years old and wheelchair-bound. Roy remembers with clarity the fire that had always burned in Ed's eyes, the breathtaking passion Ed had never seemed to tire of. None of it was evident now.

Roy doesn't think he'll ever get used to Ed's stillness, no matter how many hours he spends sitting at his bedside and watching over him. Ed just wasn't made to be still. Even in Roy's office, listening to Roy going over Ed's missions, the boy had always fidgeted, and glared, and made so much noise Roy despaired of him ever being truly silent. He used to wonder, idly, if Ed talked in his sleep too, if Al stayed up all night listening to his brother mumble incomprehensible nonsense over the long hours. (He never managed to entertain those thoughts for long. He'd remember at some point that Al still sounded like a ten year old, and inevitably he'd have nightmares of Harry trapped in the armor instead.)

@-`---

When he finally gets to return home, mostly healed and almost certain he isn't going to be arrested, things don't get much better. His house looks strange with one eye, and everything has been tidied up while he was convalescing. He feels like he's walked into another person’s life, and he doesn't fit into the hole he'd left any more. He wanders his own house aimlessly, like a stranger, picking things up and then putting them down when they fail to interest him. In the daytime, while Harry’s at school, he catches himself staring into his empty fireplace or blank television screen, not really thinking about anything, just...existing. And late at night, when the memories are too much for him, he stands in his son’s doorway, watching his restless sleep.

Harry himself doesn't know what to do with Roy. He's happy at first, chattering about his time with Madame Christmas and her girls, but as Roy fails to respond, he slowly stops talking. Instead Harry just watches him in the waking hours, silently observing Roy as he floats aimlessly through time.

Though he knows he should do something, Roy can't bring himself to fix Harry’s strange behavior. Sometimes he gives his son barely-there smiles, talks a little to convince him that everything is fine, but Harry doesn't seem to buy it. His uncertainty turns into fear, and he shrinks away from Roy every time they cross paths. Roy hurts, down to his very soul, whenever this happens, but the fog in his head prevents him from acting.

Until the day Harry refuses to get out of bed for school.

Something sparks in Roy’s chest, a mild panic mixed with his determination to treat his son well, and finally he reacts. He coaxes Harry out of bed and into his uniform, speaks haltingly as he fixes him an easy lunch, and walks him to school. When Harry gets home that night, looking cautiously hopeful, Roy listens attentively to the recounting of his day until Harry is smiling again.

The next day, after successfully seeing his son off to school again, his feet take him the familiar path to the hospital. He makes a stop in Maes’s room, smiling weakly as Gracia gives him her now familiar pitying look. Then he drags himself slowly down the hallway, peering hesitantly through the doorway into Ed’s room.

Where his heart skips a beat or three as he finds Ed staring straight back at him.

Doing his best to pretend that nothing is wrong, he adjusts his posture to a military straightness, and saunters into the room as if he owns it. Ed, predictably, is unimpressed.

“The fuck happened to you?” he asks, as delightfully rude as ever. “Did anybody tell you how dorky that eyepatch looks?”

A spark of annoyance lights in his chest, and Roy is terribly, _hopelessly_ , grateful for Ed. Ed, who is (almost) always honest, who apologizes for nothing (especially not his attitude), who fights tooth and nail for the sake of any person he cares about. Roy thinks—hopes, really—that at this point that includes himself.

“I'm fairly certain you're the only person who would dare to say such a thing,” Roy says, and his voice isn't as airy as he would like, but it's a start. “It's some small consolation that none of the nurses seem to agree with you, though.”

Ed looks disgusted. “Might’ve known you would just be concerned about your next piece of ass,” he says in a disgruntled voice. Then he glares at Roy, the fire and intelligence back in his eyes. “Hawkeye says you been acting weird, but she won't tell me what's happened.”

Bless Ed and his inability to just ask for the information he wants. Roy considers keeping it from him, just to see the frustration on Ed’s face, but eventually says, “I'm being tried for treason.”

Ed’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and really telling him the truth may have been worth it just for that expression.

“And you're _letting_ them?” Ed asks in clear disbelief, as if he's naive enough to still believe Roy is untouchable.

“I walked out of the Führer’s burning house carrying his dead son, and was confronted by Colonel Archer, who shot me in the eye,” Roy says shortly, not caring to go into the details of that terrible evening any further. “Apparently the evidence against me is alarming, if circumstantial. Lieutenant Hawkeye is arguing on my behalf, of course, but I hardly see the point in fighting the inevitable.”

“So you're just going to let them declare you guilty and, what, put you up in front of a firing squad?” Roy looks away from Ed’s too-honest eyes and shrugs, not able to deny the accusation. “Fuck’s sake, Mustang, I can't believe you can't manage to talk your way out of this shit. You can talk your way out of anything!”

Anger flares up in Roy’s chest, but dies down almost instantly. He gives Ed a half-hearted shrug. He doesn't want to explain to Ed how incapable he is of fighting, how little of it actually seems important anymore, so he says nothing and stares at Ed’s IV. He lifts a hand absently to rub at his left eye, which doesn't seem to be working correctly, and encounters the eyepatch Ed had so carelessly scoffed at. How easy it is to forget that he no longer has that eye, and how bitter the reminder always is.

When the silence eventually drags on too long, Roy mutters, “I don't expect you to understand, Fullmetal.” Because the boy has never stopped fighting a day in his life.

Another long silence, this one broken by Ed’s irritated sigh. “Of course I fucking understand,” he says, voice grimmer than ever, and Roy looks back at him curiously. There's a terrifying darkness to the young man’s gaze, as if Roy has opened up an abyss that goes straight down into the Earth’s core. He stares back silently, strangely transfixed. “You think I was ready to get up running that night, down an arm and a leg and my brother’s entire body? I didn't have a fucking clue what to do after that, automail hadn't even crossed my mind while all I could think about was how I'd ruined Al’s life. And then you appeared, and gave me a direction to start in.”

Roy blinks rapidly, more surprised than he would admit, at this confession. He himself would have been too ashamed to say anything to the person who'd dragged him out of hell—but Ed is still looking at him, fierce and unashamed and so strong it hurt.

“So I guess it's my turn to do the same for you,” Ed continues eventually, determined. “I don't know what the fuck you've been aiming for all these years, Mustang, using every piece of leverage you had to climb ranks, but _something_ was clearly important enough for you to put aside your life for the military. And if it meant anything to you at all, you'll keep fighting for that goal until you can't fight any longer. Right now, you've still got two working legs; get the fuck up and walk forward!”

Roy stares back for a long, long minute, astonished. Then he hears his own voice as if through a fog, feeling like somebody else has control of his vocal cords, “What if I don't know how?"

Ed snorts, turning his head away. “Guess you'd better figure it out quick, then.” And try as he might, Roy can't get him to say another word.

@-`---

Ed continues to refuse to talk to him, but Roy returns to his room every day anyway—he can't think of anything else to do while his guilt is still being debated. It's disconcerting to sit with Ed in silence, no arguing or griping or even being blatantly ignored. Ed clearly listens in the rare instances Roy finds himself talking, but the only sign he cares is found on his expressive face.

His trek to Ed's room one morning is interrupted by a flurry of doctors rushing down the hallway in front of him. It takes him a long minute to realize that they're all converging on Alphonse's room. Fearing for the worst, he quickens his step as much as he dares so he can peer through the window and see what's happening. Thankfully, Al is sitting up, speaking softly with the doctors around him and smiling with the strength Roy always suspected he hid. As if sensing Roy looking at him, Al looks over to him, smiling brightly even as his eyebrows furrow at the sight of the eyepatch covering half of Roy's face.

Roy can't quite dredge up a smile, but he raises a hand in greeting before he turns away.

Settled in the chair by Ed's bed again, he turns to Ed. "Al's awake," he says simply, as if it was unimportant and he was only commenting on the weather.

Ed jerks a little, turning from the view of Central outside his window to look at Roy with bright eyes. His mouth opens as if he's going to speak, but then he seems to remember the vow of silence he'd taken; he snaps his jaws shut again and turns away from Roy with a frown. Roy sighs.

The trend continues for a few days, Ed eyeing him whenever he enters the room as if Roy was some disgusting mess on the bottom of his shoe, then inevitably turning away to glare outside his window again. He's clearly itching to ask Roy something, god only knows what, but he never does. With some effort, Roy keeps his own silence, trying to pretend that it's normal.

Finally, after three more long days, Ed turns to Roy with the harshest scowl in his arsenal.

"How's Al?" he asks grudgingly, and somehow his scowl intensifies when Roy gives him a confused look. "They won't fucking let me out of bed to see him, because they can't figure out what caused my coma. I offered to let them take me down the hall in a fucking wheelchair if that would make them feel better, but they just keep saying that I need to rest. As if I haven't been in bed for a week already."

"You and Al really should rest," Roy says, because he doesn't really know how else to respond. Ed gives him a glare that says exactly what he thinks of this idea, and Roy honestly finds himself feeling sympathetic. It just doesn't seem right for the brothers to be separated after everything they'd been through together, not now that Al is finally back in a human body again. He heaves a little sigh. "I haven't gone to see him myself since he woke up, but I'll see what I can do about getting them to take you down there."

And Ed, the usually irritable little brat, gives him a grateful grin, as bright and blinding as the sun.

@-`---

The next day finds him sitting in the tribunal again, uncomfortable and faintly irritated as he listens to Hawkeye repeat herself for the umpteenth time. Part of him wishes they'd just get on with it and decide to shoot him already, but a smaller part of him, one that's been buried for weeks, is starting to wonder what he needs to do to convince his superiors that he's innocent. Even if it will be the biggest lie he's ever told. It will take some truly underhanded tricks since he's been silent in his own defense for so long, but Ed was right: he _is_ Roy Mustang. If he can't talk himself out of a hole, he deserves to be buried.

He remains silent through the rest of this session, staring blankly into space as his mind churns, and it comes as a surprise when the day is finally over. Hawkeye gives him a questioning look as she guides him to the door, but he just gives her a mysterious half-smile. He'll let her know as soon as he's made concrete plans, since she's gotten him this far.

He's so lost in his thoughts that he actually jumps when he hears Ed's name mentioned in the room behind him. He pauses in the doorway, one hand still holding the door open, and listens intently to the generals. It seems they believe Fullmetal is too valuable of an asset to be let go; they're arguing about which office should get him instead.

Roy finds himself turning before he can stop himself, and says, "Fullmetal already requested to be released from duty. I was under the impression that this would be granted."

There are one or two sympathetic faces, but most of the generals just glare down at him.

"That is no longer any of your concern, Mr. Mustang," General Hakuro says in his most officious tone. "And I believe you were already dismissed."

Roy inclines his head in reluctant agreement and leaves the room.

He's not even halfway to the hospital when he stops walking, and Hawkeye halts a respectful distance behind him. "Even if Fullmetal is unable to leave the military," he states flatly to his most trusted subordinate, "he will not be going to another command."

When he turns to get Hawkeye's agreement, he can see a grim light of approval in her eyes. He smiles back wryly, but doesn’t need to say anything else.

They spend a long few days in his house, hashing out a hopefully foolproof plan, so the next time Roy is called before the tribunal, they're well-prepared with their lines.

He remains standing when he enters the room this time, nodding respectfully at the generals he knows will be on his side. He talks circles around the rest of them, saying he'd been distraught over his failure to save the Führer, that he'd only found out about the plot to kill the man at the last moment and had been forced to set out to his rescue without calling for backup. He'd just wanted to save Selim's body from the flames, he explains, and hadn't had the strength to drag the Führer himself out. Above all else, he informs them that Edward Elric is sixteen years old and underage, that as the boy's superior officer he's the closest thing to a guardian he has. He wants to, but doesn't, tell them that he is the only damn one of them with any right to have a say in Ed's future. He imagines they heard the words anyway.

In the end, he's only reinstated as a colonel, but it's satisfying enough. The generals reluctantly agree to let Ed become a civilian again, Roy tasked with taking the boy's watch and informing him of his new status. He pointedly reacquires and dons the uniform he'd been stripped of, leaving Hawkeye to watch over Harry as he returns to the hospital.

Ed is not in his room, but Roy isn't concerned. He goes straight to Al's room instead, and can't stop his smile when he finds the two boys sitting on Al's bed and talking like they'd been separated for years. Al gives a little gasp when he finally takes notice of Roy leaning in the doorframe, nudging his brother, and then Ed turns to him with a scowl. He looks Roy up and down with an eyebrow raised, then his eyes settle on Roy's command stripes, and a grim little smile steals its way onto his face.

"Finally figured it out, huh?" the brat says a little mockingly, and uncharacteristically ignores the questioning look Al gives him. Roy just inclines his head in faint thanks at Ed's part in his return to command.

"I thought I'd come give you the news myself," he says blandly. "You're now a civilian, Fullmetal. Congratulations."

Ed grants him that absolutely devastating grin again. "I knew you'd get your head out of your ass eventually, Mustang." It fades quickly, and he and Al give each other uncertain frowns.

"Is there something wrong?" Roy prompts, knowing enough to be mildly concerned.

"I don't know where we're going to stay," Al says sadly when it becomes clear that Ed won't explain. "I won't be allowed to travel until I've fully recovered, which could take months, and brother will be kicked out of the dorms if he's out of the military. We can't impose on Mrs. Hughes so much when Mr. Hughes is still in a coma…."

Roy wonders to himself if these kids will _ever_ catch a break, or if maybe they'd been serial killers in a past life and this was their atonement. He looks between the two despondent faces, frowning himself, and sighs uneasily. He's going to regret this; he can feel it in his bones.

"I have a spare bedroom that you'd be welcome to until you can travel again," he says, with less reluctance than he'd expected to feel. He kind of owes Ed for giving him a reason to move again, and the bedroom is all he can offer.

He doesn't expect them to take him up on it, though, fiercely independent as they both are. But they spend a long, long minute staring at each other, until finally Ed huffs noisily and turns his head away. The older brother crosses his arms and glares angrily at the wall, but Al gives Roy a faint smile.

"We really appreciate it, Colonel," he says politely. Roy has the strangest premonition of doom.

@-`---

It's probably a terrible idea, but for his own amusement he doesn't tell Ed that he has a son. Harry knows enough to expect _somebody_ coming to live with them, but Roy never says who it is even though Harry asks him at least three times a day.

He can't help smiling when he pulls into his driveway nearly a week after offering his spare bedroom, and it only widens when he notices Ed is giving him a suspicious look for it. It dims a little when they get out of the car and Roy is reminded of just how little the Elrics own; Ed only has one suitcase with him, and though Roy is certain it's been magically expanded, it hardly seems like enough luggage to be moving one's entire life in.

Shaking the mood off, he leads Ed to his front door, which creaks a little as he opens it—he'll have to oil the hinges later—and flips on the hallway light as they enter.

"Take off your shoes, please," he says to Ed, kicking off his own boots into a messy pile on the mat set aside for that purpose. Then he takes a few steps further into the house and calls, "Harry, I'm home!"

"What—" Ed starts, but cuts off as they hear what sounds like a small stampede above them. Harry appears at the top of the stairway a second later, bounces down the stairs in a way Roy has always thought looked painful, and throws himself at Roy. Roy catches him easily—he's had a _lot_ of practice—and hugs him tightly.

"Hi, Daddy!" Harry says, a little too loudly.

"What the _fuck_ , Mustang," Ed says flatly behind him.

Harry gasps dramatically and slaps his hands over his own mouth. Barely holding in his laughter, Roy turns to Ed and gives him a disapproving frown.

"Watch your language around my son, Fullmetal," he says.

"You—your—since when the fu— _heck_ do you have a _son_?" Ed stutters, his voice rising on each word until he's nearly shouting the last. Roy can't hold back an answering smirk, which causes Ed to make an entertaining little "aaargh" noise as he runs a hand down his face. If there are any consequences to not informing Ed about his son, Roy muses, satisfied, this reaction entirely makes up for it. It's a memory he'll hold close to his heart until he dies.

"I adopted Harry six years ago," Roy answers, "which is an entertaining enough story on its own, but that can wait. Fullmetal, this—" he jiggles Harry in his arms a little, making him giggle "—is my son Harry Potter. Harry, this is Edward Elric."

" _Really?_ " Harry asks excitedly, leaning towards Ed to get a better look at him. "He's coming to live with us?"

"For a little while, at least," Roy allows. Harry looks back at him, a concerned look on his face.

"But, dad, you complain about him _all the time_ ," he says, "what if he blows up the house?"

Roy bites his lip to keep his laughter in, while Ed, baring his teeth, points his finger in Harry's face. "You," he says, not anywhere near as threateningly as he would to an adult, "are going to be just as much a pain in the ass—"

"Fullmetal," Roy interrupts sharply, "language!"

" _Excuse me_ for being surprised," Ed replies, gritting his teeth. "And stop fuck—damn— _dangit._ Stop calling me Fullmetal!'

"That attached to being a civilian already?" Roy asks dryly. Ed glares at him. "Edward, then. Or would you prefer Ed?"

"Just—Ed is fine, I guess," Ed mutters haltingly, looking faintly embarrassed.

"Well, let's get you settled in," Roy says. "Harry, can you show Ed the spare room while I get dinner started?"

"Yup!" Harry replies brightly, wriggling until Roy puts him on the ground. He takes Ed's right hand without flinching, looking up at him with big, adoring eyes, and starts chattering away. Ed looks surprised at first, squeezing Harry's hand a little, then his eyes warm up and he listens with a serious look on his face. "Your room is upstairs next to mine and daddy's is around the staircase there and…"

Roy shakes his head as he listens to Harry's voice trailing off, then turns to the kitchen. He throws his uniform jacket over the back of his chair with a sigh of relief, and flicks the radio on to a station that plays old jazz music. Humming along absentmindedly, he throws together a simple meal—no point in trying to impress Ed, of all people, with his culinary skills—and sets the table. Usually he has Harry put the table together, but Roy knows he'll be distracted by Ed for the rest of the night.

When dinner is nearly finished, he calls Harry back downstairs. A few minutes later, he can hear Ed's voice as they come toward the kitchen—Ed seems to be telling Harry about a doll he once made for his friend Winry—and Roy can't keep himself from grinning when he sees that Harry is still clinging to Ed's hand. Ed looks up at him with a wry smile.

"Okay," he says reluctantly, as if he's admitting to something terrible, "your kid's cute, at least. More than I can say for you."

"Thank you, Ed," Roy says dryly. "Your opinion of me has been noted and discarded."

Ed snorts, but settles himself in a chair at Harry's insistence. Harry is talking again, this time about the many and varied toys Roy has alchemically fixed for him over the years, and Roy can't stop himself from dropping a kiss on his head as he serves out the food. Ed smirks at him a little mockingly, but Roy doesn't mind; he's not ashamed of the way he acts towards his only son.

Roy assumed that first night was going to be something of a fluke, everyone on their best behavior while they got used to each other, but Ed settles into his life surprisingly well. Lacking anything else to do, he takes to prowling around the house and fixing all of the tiny irritants that Roy has never gotten around to; within a week, the front door has stopped creaking, the draft in his dining room has been plugged up, and a dripping tap in the upstairs bathroom that Roy had honestly forgotten about have all been resolved. More notably, Roy's small library in the den has been raided multiple times. Every so often, Roy will go to flip through a book in his rare downtime, only to find that the one he wants is missing. Usually he finds them in Ed's room, under a pile of notes Roy carefully doesn't read, but sometimes he finds them in stranger places—tucked in between cushions on the couch, underneath the kitchen table, and, on one memorable occasion, tucked neatly away next to a half-eaten bowl of pudding in the fridge. He expects to find this irritating, but mostly he's amused, and considering starting a journal of weird shit Ed does when he's reading.

And Harry just _adores_ Ed. On the weekends, when everyone's usually relaxing in the house, Harry has a tendency to follow him around as if he expects Ed to do tricks for him. Ed tolerates it well enough, is uncharacteristically patient and kind to the young boy, and Roy finds himself growing almost frighteningly fond of him.

Which probably explains why he doesn't have a panic attack the night he finds himself kissing a teenager on his couch.

It starts innocently enough. Roy, delighted to have somebody to discuss alchemy with, takes to talking to Ed after dinner whenever both of them happen to be reading the same book (which is more often than not). Ed is fascinating to talk to, his mind diamond-sharp and his knowledge of all types of alchemy truly astonishing. The topic makes him seem older, puts a serious look on his face and a light in his eyes that Roy can't look away from, and it's all too easy to forget that Ed is sixteen years old with a life that seems to consist of him falling from one disaster into another. Roy knows he's traumatized, has to be with everything that's happened to him—but, in all fairness, Roy isn't much better off himself.

Roy eventually manages to drag his own lips away from Ed's, but can't seem to let go of him. On his part, Ed stares up at him with wondering eyes, hands fisted tightly in the front of Roy's shirt, and licks his swollen lips as if he can taste Roy on them still. He should look even younger now, with the surprise making his eyes wide and rounded, but there's a different kind of fire in his eyes now—one that Roy finds, in a word, breathtaking.

"Okay?" he asks breathlessly, because he has to make sure this is something Ed actually wants.

"Yeah," Ed says, voice hoarse. "Yeah, it's—" and he pulls Roy down into another kiss, eager and unpracticed, so Roy never does get to find out what the rest of that sentence was supposed to be.

It becomes almost ritual for them; every night, after Harry has gone to bed, Roy finds himself tangled on the couch with a teenager fourteen years his junior. He should probably feel some guilt over it, but Roy has been having trouble thinking of Ed as a child since they parted on that sidewalk. And Ed _is_ eager, endlessly curious and unashamed with it, putting his hands in places Roy knows he hadn't had the bravery to touch at his age. Roy can't keep himself from touching back, marveling at Ed's musculature and cupping an absolutely _perfect_ ass that he would be envious of if he didn't admire it so much.

On the inevitable night that clothes actually start coming off, he pulls Ed into his bedroom and shuts the door firmly behind them—the last thing he needs is to traumatize Harry with a scene like this. A careless snap of his fingers starts up the fire that Roy had bought this house for—which somehow makes Ed even _more_ eager, good lord—and then they fall unceremoniously into the bed. Roy's shirt is already gone, but when he starts pulling at Ed's clothes, the younger man jerks in surprise and pulls back suddenly, frowning uncertainly and not meeting Roy's eyes.

Roy pulls back a little himself, concerned and confused, because what the hell does Edward Elric have to be embarrassed about? And then, "Oh," he says out loud, "the automail."

Ed's face turns a rather unflattering shade of red, and he looks up at Roy with defensive anger. Because, of course, anger is Ed's response to everything that upsets him.

"I'm not bothered by scars, Ed," he says softly, trying not to sound too reassuring in case Ed thinks he's being patronizing. "Or by your prosthetics. I already know what to expect."

Ed bites his lip and squirms a little bit, not looking him in the eyes, and though it's a different situation entirely, Roy _knows_ that reaction. He's seen it a hundred times over the expanse of his desk, when Ed came back from a mission with a new scar or wound and tried to hide it from his superior officer. Roy pulls back a little further, narrows his eyes at his would-be lover, and asks, "What haven't you told me?"

"In my defense," Ed says reluctantly, gaze settled on something over Roy's shoulder, "it wasn't really during a mission and I was never actually debriefed on what happened when I got Al's body back."

"Edward," Roy says in his best warning tone, because he knows if he doesn't Ed will try to get around actually telling him what happened.

"I was fighting Envy," Ed mutters reluctantly. "And I got a little—a little impaled."

Roy could swear his heart actually stops. He finds himself staring at Ed, mouth dropped open a little in shock, because of all the things he actually expected—another serial killer, a townsman with a grudge against the military, hell, a particularly nasty chimera—this doesn't even make the list.

"Impaled," Roy eventually says in a flat tone. Ed winces.

"I got better?" he tries, then at the look in Roy's eye, he adds, "I may have used alchemy to fix it. And, uh, died a little bit?"

When Roy inevitably dies of a heart attack before he's forty, he's going to make sure somebody cites Ed as the cause of death.

"You—" he tries to say, swallows painfully even though his mouth is dry, "You—absolute idiot—how do you die _a little bit_?"

Ed groans, covers his eyes with his arms, and asks dully, "Have you ever heard of the Gate?"

The story that Roy eventually drags out of him is indescribably horrifying and, as a matter of course, completely kills the mood. Roy wishes he could be angry about it, but it isn't Ed that he feels a growing urge to burn to a crisp.

"I'd might as well go back to my room," Ed mutters once he's done, looking ancient and fragile in a way Roy hadn't known he was capable of.

Roy surprises himself by reaching out to tug Ed back into bed, pulling him close and saying, "Stay." Ed gawks at him, clearly disbelieving, so he pulls him into a long, slow kiss. It isn't meant to get the night started again, and it doesn't. But Ed melts into the kiss like he's been waiting for it his entire life, and spends the night curled up in Roy's arms.

By the time Al is allowed to leave the hospital, Ed has found a seemingly permanent home in Roy's bed. Al, of course, is impossible to hide anything from, and gives Roy and Ed knowing looks the entire drive home. Ed stares out of the window, growing redder and redder in embarrassment, and Roy starts to wonder if maybe he should feel guilty, but he can't even bring himself to pretend to be ashamed. He meets Al's eyes in the rearview mirror and smirks, which has the added benefit of making Ed even more embarrassed.

"You're such a fucking pervert," Ed snarls, and Roy's sure the only reason he's not being smacked is that he's driving. "Stop fucking smirking at my little brother, I swear I won't even be able to leave the two of you alone in the same room—"

"Don't worry, brother," Al says in an innocent voice, "You can keep the Colonel for yourself; I'm not even remotely interested."

Ed makes a truly awful noise of outrage, turning an absolutely fascinating shade of purple. Roy wants to be insulted, he really does, but he's too busy being amused, and a little bit relieved. He has no doubts that if Al had any reservations about their relationship, Ed would have dropped him in an instant. That's the last thing Roy wants.

He suddenly understands that premonition of doom he'd had all those weeks ago.

@-`---

Al settles into the household as smoothly as Ed did. Harry is unsurprisingly as enthralled by him as he was by his older brother, and Roy is more than pleased to discover that Al enjoys both cooking _and_ cleaning. Roy isn't exactly a neat freak himself, but Ed's absentmindedness has a tendency to leave every room a mess behind him, and Roy has a lot of trouble trying to keep up with it all even after he's convinced Ed to start straightening up the house while Roy was at work. (Ed, it turns out, doesn't actually have anything against cleaning, per se. The trick is actually getting him to remember to do it. And, as Roy discovers early on in their relationship, nagging will only make things worse—then he'll leave a mess on purpose, because he's a spiteful little brat.)

Strangely, the longer the Elric brothers stay with him, the more Roy finds his mood improving. He's not exactly as cheerful as he'd been before killing Pride, has a lot more difficulty holding up the more ridiculous aspects of his persona, but the listlessness of those earliest weeks has almost entirely faded. He still finds himself staring into space at times, but now he has Ed to disrupt his thoughts in increasingly pleasant ways.

Of course, Roy is at work the day Maes wakes up. He's leaning back in his chair to stare at the ceiling and quietly bemoan the lack of Ed to stare at (sometimes he worries he's getting a fixation), when the phone on his desk rings. Roy stares at it for a long moment, surprised; his phone almost never rings without Hawkeye warning him that she was putting a call through.

When he does finally pick it up, he almost tips his chair over at the sound of Gracia's tearful voice. For a second he expects the worst, that Maes has quietly passed away without warning, but then the woman's actual words slip through the screaming panic in his head.

"I'll bring the Elrics and Harry over," Roy says instantly, using his most soothing voice as he glances at the clock. It's late enough in the afternoon that everyone should be home, so when he hangs up he doesn't hesitate to grab his coat and walk out of his office. All of his men turn to face him at once, Hawkeye standing from her seat with a disapproving frown on her face, but he holds up a hand to halt her.

"Maes is awake," he says softly, and the serious looks fade into surprise a moment before Havoc and Breda let out cheers. Roy finds himself grinning as well, and one look at Hawkeye's face lets him know that he won't actually be in trouble for leaving work early this time. "I'm taking the boys up to the hospital tonight; he wants to see us all. Hawkeye—"

"I'll make your excuses, sir," the woman says, sitting back down and already pulling the phone towards her. Roy would be seriously lost without her.

"And could you call Ed and warn them I'm on my way?" he asks, already halfway out the door by the time she gives him an affirmative answer.

He makes it home in record time, at least partly due to a judicial use of illegal magic, and finds his household already outside waiting for him. Ed and Al are wearing identically brilliant grins, and Harry climbs into the car without being told.

"Is Uncle Maes really awake?" Harry asks excitedly, leaning forward into the front seat. Roy frowns, but it's Ed that pushes him back and tells him to put on his seatbelt or they won't be going anywhere. Harry pouts, but obligingly buckles himself in. "Well? Is he?"

"Yes, he is," Roy says, giving Ed a grateful smile. "And he asked to see you specifically, or so Gracia tells me."

Harry is bursting with excitement, fidgeting through the short ride to the hospital and kicking the back of Roy's seat. Roy lets him get away with it this once; he can hardly blame his son for his restlessness when he feels the same way himself.

The four of them make quite the spectacle entering the hospital, Harry all but hanging off Roy and Ed's hands, but the nurses clearly remember them. The lady at the desk just smiles at him and prepares visitor's badges for them without even asking their names, which is probably a bad sign for how much time all of them have spent in the hospital recently. At Maes's room, Roy stops to knock despite Harry bouncing next to him, and it's a long second before Gracia is opening the door to them.

"Oh, Roy!" Gracia says ecstatically, throwing her arms around him. Roy lets go of Harry's hand, knowing he can trust Ed to watch out for him, and wraps the woman in his arms. She pulls away quickly, wiping tears from her eyes. "I can't believe he's finally awake! They were saying we should have let him go ages ago, but I couldn't—"

"I know," Roy says warmly. "Is he awake? I think Harry may well vibrate into the next dimension if he doesn't get to see his uncle soon."

Gracia's laugh is a little watery, but she waves them into the room without hesitation.

Hughes doesn't look well. Roy doesn't know what he was expecting a man fresh out of a months-long coma to look like, but the exhaustion evident on his best friend's face dismays him. Worse is the obvious weakness; Gracia has to help him drink from a glass of water, and Roy's pretty sure the only things holding him up right now are the raised bed and sheer stubbornness.

But the sharp intelligence in his eyes hasn't faded any, and he looks at the Elric brothers with eyebrows raised.

"Uncle Maes!" Harry says, bouncing over to the bed. He's surprisingly careful when he wraps his arms around Maes's torso, and Maes finally tears his eyes from the brothers to smile down at him instead. He weakly ruffles Harry's hair.

"Have you been looking after your dad for me, Harry?" he asks, giving Roy a teasing smile.

"Uh-huh!" Harry replies, nodding enthusiastically. "And Ed and Al helped! Did you know they're living with us, did Aunt Gracia tell you?"

"No, that seems to have slipped her mind," Maes grins, looking up at the Elrics. His gaze lingers on Al for a long moment before he turns his attention to Ed. "And nobody's died yet?"

Ed and Roy share a wry look before Ed says, "Nah, he's not so bad after a while."

Maes's eyebrows practically disappear into his hair, and he gives Roy a sharp look that doesn't bode well for Roy's health. Roy grins back at him to hide his nervousness.

"Say, you wouldn't mind if I spoke to Roy alone for a minute, would you?" Maes asks, and though his voice is perfectly innocuous, Roy's heart sinks a little. How in the world did Maes always see right through him? Ed shoots Roy a worried look, which certainly isn't going to help with Maes's deduction, but quietly leaves the room with everyone else.

Maes watches them leave, observing Ed the entire time, and there's a long silence after the door closes.

"What the fuck are you doing, Roy?" he states more than asks, finally turning back to Roy with cold eyes. If Roy hadn't already known that Maes was angry, the cursing would have clued him in instantly.

"I think, I think maybe that question should be more of a _who_ —" Roy starts, his voice as light as he can make it, but stops when Maes's eyes narrow further.

"How old is he now, Roy?" Maes snaps. "Sixteen? God, you didn't even have sex with sixteen year olds when _you_ were sixteen—"

"Maes," Roy interrupts quietly, but it doesn't help.

"So help me, Roy, if I find out you've _coerced_ him, after everything Ed's been through—"

"I haven't," Roy says quietly, hurt by the accusation, and something in his voice must've finally gotten through to Maes, because he stops ranting and stares at him, waiting for an explanation. "God, Maes, is that what you really think of me? That I'd go so low as to manipulate a traumatized sixteen year old into _sex_?"

Maes sighs heavily, closing his eyes and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. It takes a long minute before he speaks again.

"No," he finally says softly. "No, I'm sorry, but Roy, you _have_ to know what it looks like from someone else's point of view! Ed's fourteen years younger than you, has been under your command for years, and it's so easy to forget just how capable he is." He smiles wryly up at Roy, and adds, "I imagine he'd have made you incapable of having sex ever again if it wasn't something he really wanted."

Roy shudders dramatically. "Which is part of why I made damn sure it was beforehand."

"Ah, the wrath of Edward Elric," Maes said dryly. "I take it Al actually approves?"

"Well, he certainly doesn't _dis_ approve. He told Ed he could keep me."

"Hm, no, I can't see you being Al's type at all. He's far too sensible." Maes grins at him, briefly, then turns serious again. "But, Roy, I have to ask. How serious are you about this relationship with Ed? You know how he throws himself whole-heartedly into everything he does, he hardly even seems aware that he can be hurt…."

Roy can feel his face freeze, and he puts his arms behind his back to hide his discomfort. Staring at a spot on the wall above Maes's head, he says, "I'd really rather not answer that, Maes."

"Oh," Maes breathes, that one word full of wonder and shock. Roy glances back down at his face uncertainly, and is surprised himself to find his friend grinning back at him.

@-`---

The next year passes by faster than Roy would expect. He's surprised anew every day he wakes up to find Ed curled up against him, and indescribably grateful for his presence. They've been keeping their relationship a secret, which is harder than it should be with the busybodies Roy has filled his life with. Hawkeye is the only other one who manages to figure it out, and though she stared at Roy with some consternation for a few weeks after, she hasn't said anything negative as of yet.

Better still, there have been some discussions among the upper brass of having Roy promoted to Brigadier General soon. Roy knows from experience that this is still likely to be delayed another year—possibly longer, considering how many people still rightfully believe he killed Führer Bradley—but he can't find it in himself to mind the wait.

In fact, everything in his life has been going so well, he finds himself waiting for some disaster or another to strike. He keeps an extra-paranoid eye on the military, fully expecting a war to break out or for some of Bradley's less-palatable policies to be restarted, so when the issue is far more personal he's quite surprised.

He'd known, of course, that Al had been planning on starting up college at Central University soon, had in fact put in references for him; likewise, he'd actually helped Ed gain a teaching position at the same university by supporting him while he obtained a Mastery in Potions and a Doctorate in Physics in an obscenely short time. If he thinks about it logically, he should have expected that at least Al would want to go live in the dormitories; he's had this idea of living like a normal teenager for ages, and Ed hadn't been able to break him out of it.

But somehow he hadn't expected Ed to want to move out as well.

"Oh, Colonel!" Al gasps when he notices Roy standing frozen in the doorway, the look of shock and dismay on his face surely mirroring Roy's own. Ed spins around himself, scowling, but Roy has learned to read him and he can tell it's not him Ed's mad at.

"You're leaving?" Roy asks blankly. He's surprised to find that he really doesn't want either one of them to move out. He's grown accustomed to their companionship, and had actually started getting comfortable with the idea of having a real family. He's certainly not prepared to live alone with Harry again. He wonders if he ever will be.

"I'll—I'll leave you two to talk," Al says nervously, looking between Roy and Ed as he hastily slides around Roy and leaves the den. The door closes with a thud behind him, and Roy can hear him talking to Harry and pulling him away as well, but he can't take his eyes off Ed.

"Well, we were talking about it," Ed says, nervously stepping up to Roy and fisting a hand in the front of his shirt. Roy's arms move automatically around Ed, pulling him in close, and Ed's breath hitches the same way it has every time he's ever done that. "It's just, we're both going to be at Central all the time, y'know, and it's clear across town, so we thought it might be easier to maybe get an apartment over there for just the two of us. Rent's pretty cheap because so many students live down there and—you think it's a bad idea, don't you?"

"It's not a bad idea," Roy manages to say in a steady voice. "I just don't want you to go."

Ed ducks his head and looks up at Roy from behind his eyelashes, biting his lip nervously. Roy simply adores that expression on Ed, not that he gets to see it often, and the idea of losing it, of losing _him_ — "Al thinks we're taking advantage of you. Your hospitality. I mean, I could still come over if you want? It's not like either of us would have classes on the weekends, and Al'll probably want some time to himself too, and—I wouldn't be _leaving_ leaving, okay? Just—moving."

"Stay," Roy says, voice not quite pleading. When Ed hesitates again, Roy throws caution to the wind entirely and adds, "I love you."

"What?" Ed asks, voice high in surprise. His grip on Roy's shirt tightens uncomfortably. "Say that again."

Smiling a little helplessly, Roy cups Ed's face and murmurs "I love you" again, a second before pulling him into a kiss. Ed makes a little surprised noise into it, but then wraps his right arm around Roy's neck and pushes his body up against Roy's as if he's trying to get even closer to him. Roy backs him into the couch and pours everything he has into the kiss, hoping that if Ed doesn't believe his words he'll at least believe _that_.

"You stupid fuck," Ed gasps when they finally manage to separate for air, and Roy grins because it's not the worst thing Ed has called him by far. "How long have you—no, don't answer that, I don't care right now. I love you too, you _moron_ , I've loved you for—gees. I don't even know. We'll stay. I'll stay."

Roy can't stop himself from laughing out of sheer joy, and Ed hits him for it—but then they're kissing again, like their lives depend on it, and Roy doesn't think he's ever been happier in his life.

And the best part of it all is that Ed never does choose to leave.

\-----

 **OMAKE,** because I needed to torture Havoc

_The next morning…_

Havoc yawns as he enters the office, rubbing at the back of his head blearily and automatically stumbling over to the coffee pot. It's already full, thank god, so he pours himself a cup of sludge, then slumps into his chair. He takes a long moment to just inhale the fumes, hoping that the caffeine will work before he even ingests any.

"'Morning," Breda says as he takes his seat at the desk next to Havoc's, his own cup of coffee held tightly in one fist.

"'Mornin'," Havoc responds unhappily, and takes a reluctant sip of the coffee. Ugh. Some days he wonders if the caffeine fix is a good enough reason to make himself suffer through this taste.

Sadly, the answer is always a resounding 'yes'.

Just as the caffeine hits, the door opens and the colonel saunters into the room. Havoc sighs feelingly, but stands and salutes automatically. A second later, his eyebrows rise as he catches the weird smile on Mustang's face. It's not as smug as usual, certainly not smug enough to say he'd had a fantastic night, but something about it makes Havoc's heart sink anyway.

He glances over at Breda to see if the other man has noticed it, and sighs again at the smirk on his friend's face.

"Oh, Lieutenant, could you make a reservation for two for dinner tonight?" Mustang asks casually, almost off-hand as if he'd just remembered he'd wanted her to do that. Havoc nearly snorts; like the chief would ever forget to find an appropriate date venue. "Perhaps at the Dynasty. It's not too upscale, and really you can never go wrong with Xingese, can you?"

"If you say so, sir," Hawkeye replies blandly, but the tiny almost-smile playing about her lips says she's glad to see Mustang going out again.

Mustang snorts, but doesn't otherwise dignify her with a response. Then, with one last weird smile at the office in general, he disappears into the inner office to start his day.

Havoc waits until the door closes behind his boss to let out the groan that's been building since the colonel walked in. Great. And he'd just been starting to think he'd finally get to keep a girlfriend, too.

**Author's Note:**

> There were certain pieces of this story I haven't been entirely satisfied with, but I think this version is as good as it's going to get.
> 
> Aaaand along with posting this story, I've put all of the side stories in chronological order. Because it makes me happy.


End file.
